Leading the way
by FantasticallyFanatical
Summary: 'Their fingers entwine, their foreheads meet and her lips speak only one word.' They both have the lead roles in a local play, but will Jesse lead Rachel in more ways than one? Apologies about Ch. 8 confusion!
1. Chapter 1

She can't believe he's here yet he's making no move to keep himself subtle.

"What are the odds, Berry? Me and you taking both the leads." He looks taller, somehow, Rachel notes but his eyes look at her in the same way as before. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"I'm giving my lead up." If her face didn't match the shock on his, he might have believed her.

"I seriously doubt that."

"Why are you here anyway? You left." She can't quite bring herself to look at his face. It's only been a couple of months and the bitterness from Regionals is still present but that's nothing compared to the humiliation she remembers every time she hears herself whispering _Jesse._

"Break. Plus, they thought it'd be good to get a bit more experience, show my talents, get myself noticed." He pauses to fully take her in. If he'd known she'd auditioned, would he still have come? Jesse can't figure it out, but something inside him knows he's glad she's here. Even if she is walking away from him as he tries to think of what to say. "Rachel, wait."

"Don't you get it, Jesse? I'm tired of waiting for you. I waited for you to come back, I waited for you to apologise and I waited-"

"Well wait no longer." He holds out his hand and places hers into his, concentrating his all into the iris of her eye: he needs her to understand because he really doesn't think he can cope with the heartache anymore. "Commiserations for regionals, you did good Berry."

She scoffs, but doesn't remove her hand from his, allowing his thumb to continue tiny ministrations over her skin, actions she doesn't even think he's aware of.

"And I'm sorry. They egged me on so I egged on you."

"Wow, Jesse. You really know how to give a heartfelt apology. Teach you that at UCLA, did they?" He guesses he should have expected that. This was Rachel Berry and she wasn't about to be won over easily.

"Just don't give up your lead, not yet." It's only now, when he releases her hand, she realises how much she liked it there.

**-StB-**

"How did you even get the part? You're technically not old enough."

"I might have lied slightly," she struggles to hide a grin because they both know the other will stop at nothing to get where they want to be.

"The age restriction is there for a reason, Rachel." He's trying to sound authoritative but he can't help but let a daft smile briefly take over.

"It's barely a year till I'm 18 – what's the harm?"

"You haven't read the script." It's a realisation and a question all in one.

"Is that a problem?" She's trying nonchalance, but it's not really working. Not on _him._

"You tell me." Full of cryptic clues, as always. "Read it and then decide."

So she does. And that's when she realises what he was going on about. Suddenly, the idea of giving up her lead seems a far better plan. The printed letters begin to smudge under her sweaty digits and for once, she's facing a dilemma where she really doesn't know what to do. And without the support of the Club, she feels slightly overwhelmed. And that's exactly her excuse when she finds herself knocking on Jesse's door.

"Rachel." He's surprised to see her but in a way, he always saw this coming. And he can't say he's not glad she's here.

"I just need someone to talk at and since you're the only one I – regrettably – have any history with, you're going to have to do." It's so matter-of-fact but it brings a soft laugh to his lips.

"Well come on in to my humble abode, Berry." He holds the door of his dressing room open and as she walks past, her hair just brushes his shoulder and it affects him in ways he thought unimaginable. He tries to focus on her as she takes in what she sees: a mirror adorned with photos, a plastic bin full with wasted song lyrics, his phone strewn on a nearby chair and seven bottles of water. She runs her hand across the desk, moving closer to the photos. She sees one of Jesse and Shelby and finds it odd that she's so close to both yet in the same breath, they're all so far apart. There are a few of Vocal Adrenaline, one of Jesse and the trophy she'd dreamt about for weeks and then, hidden at the bottom, one of the two of them. She doesn't even remember it being taken; she's laughing and pointing to something on their right but what intrigues her more is him. The way he's not even looking at the camera, but at _her_, as if by taking his eyes off her, he'd somehow lose her. And in some ways, he did.

He clears his throat and she's torn away from the photo. "Yes, that's you. Not your best angle, granted, but I like the way the sun catches my skin. Makes me glow, don't you think?" It's such a fabricated lie and neither of them believes it for a second, but she's sort of glad because she needs to move on. It's pretty clear he has.

"Did you like it?" He gestures to the script she has rolled up in her hands. It's neatly highlighted in pink and she smoothes it out, nodding.

"It's good. A little dry, perhaps." She rolls the script back up and shuffles her feet. He sighs and begins to believe the devil on his shoulder: he blew it and it's over. He can sense her awkwardness and that's not how he wants it to be. But suddenly, she changes the topic of conversation and it's as if nothing's changed. "What's it like? You know, at UCLA?"

"Yeah, it's alright." He's lying and she can tell. She dares a grin and chucks a scrunched up piece of paper in his direction.

"Liar." It's such a relief for him to hear her laugh: it's so infectious and it's one of the things he misses the most. "Tell me."

He grins back and resigns. "It's great," he tells her simply but with so much animation, she's sure he'll explode. "It's everything I thought it would be, and then some. It's a dream."

She can tell, just from looking at him, that it's where he belongs. Where he fits in.

"And how's New Directions doing?"

"Fine without you, if that's what you're hinting at." He wasn't but as he looks over to check she knows, he notices the sparkle in her eye. They sit in silence for a while and for the first time, it's not awkward. There's no singing, no eggs, no parents and no history, they're just Rachel and Jesse.

Eventually, she yawns and excuses herself, making her way back to her own room. Suddenly, she's got a lot to think about and she can't do it when he's around, because Jesse has the insane ability to fill up every single one of her thoughts without even trying.

She takes out her script again and her eyes hover over the words she didn't want to read. _A scene of intimacy begins between LOLA and RICARDO. _How was she supposed to act out a scene she had no experience in?

She fumbles for her phone and rings each female Glee Club member, but to no avail. In a desperate bid she rings Kurt and Puck (with Finn, this would be far too awkward) but gets only a mumbled – and probably drunken – reply from Puck. Sighing, there's only one thing left she can do.

"Twice in one night? You do surprise me." She hears the smirk before she sees it and his eyes smile with it.

"Shut it, St James. I'm only here because you're my last resort and I've run out of people to contact." He already knows what coming but he's not going to let on. He's glad she's come to him despite everything that's happened and he can't even begin to imagine how awkward this entire debacle is for her. She takes a deep breath and speaks. "What's _it_ like? And no smart remarks Jesse; this is an artistic question that will benefit us both. A _brief_ overview will do nicely and then I'll be on my way." She doesn't want the details or some crude, animalistic description. Just enough knowledge to pull this scene off perfectly. She's just thankful it's not with his character; there's no way she'd survive such a performance day in, day out.

"Do you want me to show you?" He's clearly ignored everything she's just said, but his increasingly close proximity coupled with the low tone of his voice and the dimming light bulbs stop her in her tracks. To say she's taken aback by his suggestion is an understatement.

"Show me?" She means to sound mocking but it ends up with added intrigue, despite the hand she lands plaintively on her hip in an attempt to physically scoff his ideas.

"Yes," he moves even closer to her, breathing ever so lightly on the front of her neck. "Show you."

Before she even has time to comprehend his lewd suggestion (let alone answer) her lips are captured in the gentlest spark of a kiss. As his lips meet hers she finds herself moulding around him and she's powerless to stop as his tongue works wonders around hers. One hand gets lost in her hair, the other snakes under her shirt and touches the skin at the base of her spine. Her stomach becomes a law unto itself and somersaults wildly as the kiss deepens and she finds her hands snaking onto his waist, one lingering either side. She doesn't quite remember when she lost every ounce of self control she's ever maintained, but if it feels like this, Rachel decides she's more than willing to lose control in the future; it certainly has benefits.

Neither one wants to come up for air but the need for oxygen wins out and Jesse's lips leave hers and travel to the side of her jaw line, dropping butterfly kisses down and down her neck. The fact that this feels so wrong almost makes it right as she feels his hand shift from under her shirt and reach for his door. The key turns and that makes it final: there's no going back. His hand reappears on the small of her back and his lips return to meets hers, gently massaging away her apprehensions. She knows she ought to kick herself for getting into this situation: this is Jesse St James, the boy who broke her heart and thought it fun. Yet here she was again, handing him her heart again as fragile as ever.

They stumble backwards, through a flimsy wooden door and he pulls them onto the bed, he sits on the edge, her atop his lap.

"You have a bed here?" She can hardly talk for want of breath but he releases her lips just enough to reply.

"Sometimes I stay over; it's easier than going back home."

She notices the candles on the bedside table and it makes the dingy cave in the back of his dressing room seem a lot less hostile and lot more homely, and it's almost as if he's planned this. But not even Jesse's that omnipotent. The hand in her hair drops to her neck and his hand is so hot she swears it will burn her. Then it leaves her body completely and falls behind him on the bed as he gently thrusts his hips upwards. Her cheeks graze red as the friction between his clothes and hers heat up and her eyes flutter shut as if she doesn't really believe this is happening. It's all so fast and sudden and so spur of the moment and so _not_ Rachel Berry, but all of it just contributes to giving her a rush of excitement unlike any she's ever felt. And she doesn't want it to stop.

So when he performs the action again and their clothed hips brush she emits a gasp that Jesse believes sounds even more amazing than that beautiful voice of hers. He takes a gamble – because he's still not sure she's _really_ ready – and undoes the first four buttons on her shirt as he skirt begins to hike up her legs as she settles on his lap.

"We probably shouldn't do this." She's breathy as she speaks and tries to regain at least some composure.

"We probably shouldn't," he agrees, gently kissing her collar bone. He's had far too much experience in these circumstances, she decides, and he's using it all to his advantage to make her feel emotions she's only ever dreamt of.

"Particularly given our past and the entanglement of our upcoming future." He knows what she means: they're going to have to work together after this – whatever _this _is – and the last thing either one wants is another lengthy period of awkwardness. But her words seem empty as she shows no signs of wanting any of this to stop. His fingers hover above the last two buttons and he glances up at her, awaiting her confirmation. He could easily have his way with her now, given her current state of mind, but he's learnt that it's not all about him. And after their last relationship ended as it did, he's determined to not let this one go. She nods, just once, and then closes her eyes as the fabric drops from her body and his hands roam her bare midriff.

She dares to open one eye as she feels his hands leave her body and sees him take off his own top and discard it to the floor. Still sitting atop his lap, he takes both of her hands and places them on his chest. She closes both eyes tightly and just lets her hands rest on his chest, the nerves evident as her hands twitch, just lightly, but enough for him to notice. He takes both his hands and encircles her back, hoping to make her feel safe, secure. Her hands leave his chest to brush her hair out her face, tucking several strands safely behind her ears before replacing her hands on his chest and pushing him backwards onto the bed. His hands left the safety of her back can scooted under her skirt to rest on the sides of her thighs, his thumbs rubbing tiny circles of reassurance just under each hip bone.

This was it. Slowly their sweaty bodies conjoin and the candles flicker out, leaving only flashes on flesh visible in the moonlight creeping in from the poorly covered window. Their fingers entwine, their foreheads meet and her lips speak only one word:

"_Jesse._"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, firstly thank you all for such a spectacular response to this: it's fantastic to hear what people think and I'm trying my best to reply to everyone, as well as take on board all your criticisms. So you know, don't be shy and keep them coming ;) Secondly, I hope this makes things a _little _clearer by giving a better sense of time, space and place (if not, feel free to add ideas, critques, whatever.) Thirdly, I have no idea if Jesse would own an eye liner (or have a bed in his dressing room, or be allowed to stay overnight in a theatre) but for the purpose of this here creation, all the aforementioned occur with ease. Lastly, I hope this is satisfactory and as always, read, review and enjoy.

**-StB-**

"Was that a good enough answer for you?" He's a little smug and a little breathless and if she were able to properly see his face, she'd see he was just a little bit flushed too. It may not have been his first time, but it was his first time with her and that was something to behold in itself. She doesn't answer, just lies flat on her back, eyes shut and breathing fast. He places a chaste kiss on the side of her neck and then nestles his face there, letting an arm drape over her stomach and slipping his fingers under her ribs. His thumb brushes back and forth on the skin just below her chest and the regularity of his breath on her neck makes her feel drowsy. As she drifts off she realises she got what she came for – albeit not the brief overview she wanted – but it scares her because it feels like she's somehow got so much more. She removes his fingers from her under body and instead laces them with hers, closing her eyes and dreaming of him.

When morning comes she's already been awake for hours but as soon as she hears him awake, she pretends to be asleep. He shifts so he's sitting up, his back resting against the bed head and watches her for a few minutes, trying to take in what's happened. Eventually though, he needs to know she's okay, so he places a hand on her shoulder and lets his fingers do the talking. (But only for a second, Jesse never did do silence well.)

"I know you're awake; your breathing is too fragmented and your eyes are flickering far too much."

"I could be dreaming," she counters; not opening her eyes and berates herself for smiling as she hears him chuckle softly.

"You could be, minus the speech." He drags his fingernails up and down the exposed bare skin on her side and her eyes finally flutter open. She sits up, wrapping the duvet tightly as she moves, her hair loose and tangled and her eyes bright and wide. The sit parallel to each other but eventually she relaxes and lets herself lean against the wood too.

"Last night was-" She pauses because she doesn't really know what to say. Unexpected? Romantic? Educational? She'd come looking for an answer and had instead gained so much more.

"It was ours," he finishes for her simply and it works, because this way it doesn't have to be defined or categorised or boxed up. That smile creeps back onto her face without her permission and although she feels like she's been on a life changing journey that she still can't comprehend, there are bits of her that – dare she say it – are glad it was with him. With Jesse.

"I should-"

"Stay." He's not going to plead with her – he's not that sort of man – but he'd much prefer it if she stayed and he thinks, taking everything into consideration, it'd be better for her too. "So I'm assuming that was the first-"

"Yes." She really doesn't want to go there. She still can't believe that she's actually done _it_¸ with Jesse St James of all people. He mentally kicks himself – of course it was her first time, she wouldn't have needed to know about _it_ otherwise.

"And you're feeling alright about it?" She notes the concern and it makes her smile.

"Yes." She sounds more assertive now, more confident and apart from the fact she's blocking out how these moments right now could impact on her future, frankly she's in too much bliss to care.

He wants to ask her more: did her hurt her, was it alright, was_ he_ alright, but he decides against it, resolving that time for questions would come. But for now, he strokes her hair, closes his eyes and hums a song Rachel can't quite pinpoint. She stifles a yawn and lets his voice gradually lull her back to slumber. He watches her drift off and suddenly it dawns on him how precious the entity before him really is. And she chose him to protect her. The problem? He's not sure that he can.

**-StB-**

They're both aware that rehearsals are about to start in under two hours but both are reluctant to move. Not only is it a Saturday, meaning both have suffered an extremely tiring week, but they both now have to undergo the emotional baggage of the aftermath of their Friday night escapade. Suddenly, taking part in some local play, written by a washed-up ex-drama teacher, is less than appealing. Jesse still isn't sure why he even auditioned: yes, UCLA did say it would be good for him to brush up on his acting ability and yes, they advised him to try something new, untested. But back here? Where he knew there would be a possibility he could catch maybe just a glimpse of Rachel Berry? No, UCLA did not advise that. So when he arrives to find she's been cast as the female lead opposite him, he can't help but think it's fate, that they're fate, that somehow the two of them are inevitable.

And she's only here because she wants as much experience as she can get and with it being local and easily accessed, she can't help but see the perfection of participation. And if there was one person she could have put money on not being here, it would have been Jesse St James. She thought she'd seen the back of him so to have to be face to face with him again, well, she can more than verify it's made her act a little out of sorts. And even if she had ever dreamt about seeing him again, she never would have imagined it would be several months later in a destitute theatre, in a dreary dressing room on a slightly uncomfortable bed.

But then again, this is Jesse St James and he's nothing if not unique. So really, would she have imagined anything less?

"Rachel?" His voice interrupts her thoughts as she reluctantly sits back up in the bed. "You're going quiet on me again."

She can see why he'd be worried – she's not exactly one for silence. But this is a lot for her to comprehend and the fact that she didn't go home last night is not helping the issue.

"Do you want anything?" She's not used to this caring side of Jesse, not really. She's taught herself to believe everything he ever did for her was just a fabrication, an imagination. She's taught herself to believe he wasn't real but here she is, with him beside, both feeling more real than ever. She shakes her head and swings her legs out the bed, keeping the duvet wrapped tightly around her. She knows it's nothing he's not seen before but she suddenly feels so young against his maturity and it embarrasses her. He scans the room for any signs of her clothing but instead hands her a clean t shirt of his own which she slips on over her head. She walks back through into his dressing room and stands in front of the mirror adorned with photos. With a quick glance back into the dimmed bedroom, she extracts an eyeliner pencil from the desk and scrawls a quick message on the mirror before exiting his room. It doesn't even occur to her the oddity of such actions: she's running around a theatre in Jess St James' t-shirt, if that's not a giveaway, then nothing is. When he finally emerges and discovers she's gone, he sighs and scratches the back of his head awkwardly – he can't help but feel guilty that he might have played this one a little bit wrong. But then he spies the message she's left for him, _I'll be seeing you, Jesse._

He finds his phone and types a reply, praying her number remains the same. It has, and when she reads his name on her screen, she doesn't really know what to expect. She opens the message to find only three words written: _I hope so._

It takes her a while to realise what that even means but eventually it becomes clear, unlike anything else in her life. In the space of 24 hours she's met, spoke with and lost her virginity to the man she thought she'd lost forever. And just when she thought she'd finally got over him, she's found herself giving him more than before.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Well I'm still not 100% sure on this chapter, so let me know what you think. It helps, massively. Secondly, thank you for all the reviews and alerts; they're dead useful so thank you all greatly :) Also, apologies for typos and OOC-ness – I'm working on fixing both. And as always, I own nothing but greatly appreciate you reading, reviewing and enjoying :)_

**-StB-**

"And finally, the sugar to his spice, we have Miss Rachel Berry in place to play Lola." Scattered applause rings around the otherwise empty stage and Jesse cranes his neck to scan for Rachel, desperate to just see her face. He notices she's changed out his shirt – he doesn't really blame her – but what he doesn't know is that she's folded it up neatly and secured it under her pillow. She's sat directly opposite him but Esmeralda – their stage hand and the woman in charge of introducing each actor – in blocking his view. He can tell she's avoiding his eye line but she can't do so forever – they're both aware they have only four scenes to rehearse before their first one together. "Now if we could have Ricardo – yes, Jimmy, that's you – and Lola aside for a second, Paulo wants some pictures for the press."

Jesse loses her again as she's whisked off into a side room with Jimmy Kendal, the perfect definition of a Lima Loser. Jesse wouldn't usually care, but this is the guy Rachel has to act _intimately_ with and he can't help but feel jealous that he won't be the one touching Rachel night after night. Especially when it wasn't Jimmy she went to when she need _that _answer. Jesse's given Rachel's actions much thought and has narrowed her decision to choose him down to three factors: one, no one else was available. Two – and he's a tad arrogant here – she knew she'd get a more than satisfactory answer from him and three, she still feels _something_ for him and even if that's hate, Jesse swears that has to be better than nothing. Any which way, the point remains true; he now has something of hers he didn't have before – her trust. But like her virginity, he knows he can only lose it once and now he's got it, he's going to try his damndest not to lose it. Or her.

**-StB-**

"Okay everybody, take ten. There's lunch out back or pop round the corner to Lizzie's and she'll whack you out a discount – your choice. Just be back by two, ladies and gentlemen, rehearsals wait for no man."

Jesse stifles a laugh as Esmeralda – as vibrant as her name – conducts herself around the stage with the most high-energy arm actions he's ever seen used in a speech. He can't help but think she (not so) secretly wants to be a part of this world of jazz hands and leave behind the world of stage hands. He chuckles softly and shakes his head, deciding he'll grab an apple from out back and take it to his dressing room. Only four of the cast have dressing rooms: himself, Rachel, Jimmy and Cara, with the rest doubling up or sharing between as many as five or six. It's a large cry from the life he leads at UCLA but it makes him feel a certain closeness with everyone that he doesn't really experience there. It reminds him of his Vocal Adrenaline days and he can't help but feel a little nostalgic. And he decides that's going to be his excuse if Rachel doesn't accept what happened between them soon: he'll brush it off as nostalgia and she can pretend it never happened and that way, her reputation is kept in tact and his pride isn't dented. But he hopes it won't come to that and when he sees Rachel already stood in his dressing room, he dares to imagine things are looking up.

"I think we need to talk." Ever obsessed with practicality, she waits for his reply but he merely nods, deposits the apple and moves towards her as she stands with her back to the mirror. He inwardly cringes as he remembers he's already moved the photo of them from the bottom right corner to near the top arch on the left. He slips his hands around her body, joining them at the small of her back and over the top of his shoulder he can see she's added another message to his mirror. _I know so._

"If you're not careful, I'm going to have to come and use your mirror to get ready in," he gestures to her message and she emits a little giggle. Her laugh makes his stomach jolt inadvertently and he doesn't like how he can't control what she does to him. He goes to leave a soft kiss on the lips that affect him so, but she pulls away, undoing his hands at the same time.

"We need to talk, Jesse, not-"

"Kiss?" His contribution is less than helpful but it still makes her smile. He raises his hands in defeat, a look of innocence replaying the one previous. "Talk away; you should be good at that."

She sighs and he can tell she's working hard not to smile again. He infuriates her because she knows he's right and the fact that his intelligence allows him to be privy to such information only makes him want to infuriate her further. Because as last night proved, Rachel Berry will always surprise you.

"Listen, you helped me in my-"

"Quest for sexual experience?" Her eyes hold an exasperated yet slightly amused shine and he can almost hear her sighing his name in vexation.

"Hour of need," she corrects him with a slight shake of her head, "And I'm grateful and enlightened and all of those things, and more. But Jesse-"

He doesn't want her to carry on. 'But Jesse' can never mean something good and it's a phrase that's plagued him his whole life.

"I can't forget everything that's happened, even now. And I can't forget last night either – not that I'd want to – but when this is all over, you're headed back to UCLA and I'll just be another girl you won't even remember."

He knows she's just trying to protect herself from him because she still thinks he's dangerous, and he supposes it's with good reason. But how she can think she'll ever be 'just another girl' is beyond him.

"How many other girls can you remember from New Directions, Jesse?" It's as if she's read his thoughts. He falters and doesn't respond. "Exactly."

"But not all of them-"

"Not all them what, Jesse?" He wants to say _are you_, but it's far too clichéd and he's decidedly not travelling that route. "Not all them jump into bed with a guy they barely know without any thought for the consequences?"

Now comes the doubt which he knew would always come. He knows she likes to pretend that she's got her whole life planned out, but he's got to know better: the reality is, she can't plan anything and he, Jess St James, is the most impromptu of them all.

"You do know me, Rachel." It's not quite an assurance; it's understated, but true nonetheless. She doesn't answer and he hopes it's because she knows it's at least a little bit true. But of course, if it was down to him, they'd be together every day so they both knew all about the other.

"But still Jesse, we shouldn't have-"

"What? Had sex?" He stands in front of her again and lets his hands slip back around her waist; they fit so well and it makes him sad that she can't see the perfection of the two of them. She cringes as he speaks but he merely shakes his head. "Rachel, it's nothing to be ashamed of. And besides, it's not like we've killed somebody. But, if it makes you feel better, we can tell no one, keep it a secret. Pretend like it never happened."

He can't quite look at her as he trails off because that's not what he wants to do at all. But he doesn't want to shout it from the rooftops either. He just wants her to feel as happy as he did when he woke up to find his bed wasn't empty and his heart didn't ache.

"I don't want that, I just want," she pauses because truth be told; she doesn't know what she wants. She thinks she wants Jesse, but when she looks into his eyes she realises there's so much more to him and the fact that their past ended the way it did will always play on her mind. "I just need to get my head clear first."

He nods and releases her waist, picking up his apple with his now spare hands. He tilts his head to the door and allows her to walk out, grabbing his script and following her out. Rehearsals may call, but he's not letting this drop.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Sorry for the lack of updating – been a little busy this week. Thanks again for the reviews and the alerts – keep them coming ;) This chapter sort of glosses over the logistics a little bit, but shh, no one need know. Quinn makes a bit of an appearance this chapter (as do some of the others) but I'm not sure if I've nailed her or their characters or not, so let me know – you know what to do. But mostly, read, review and enjoy._

**-StB-**

Rachel finds herself unable to concentrate on the afternoon's events, instead finding her head plagued with memories of Jesse, his lips on her stomach, his hands in her hair and his body next to hers. But more than anything, she's worried by how little self-restraint she has when he's around. He tells her he'll show her and she does nothing to resist. But when will it stop? She's know it's the classic case of he says jump and she says how high but it's not a situation she's eager to get out of. And somehow, that worries her more.

They rehearse their scenes together perfectly (as they knew they would) with Jesse getting only a few words wrong. She'd like to think it's because she's all he can think about, like he's all she can think about but it's not; he actually has far more lines than anyone else, and given that this is their first rehearsal, he's doing pretty well.

But it's not their scenes that he has a problem with; it's the ones that come later. Between Lola and Ricardo. Between Rachel and Jimmy. And yes, Jesse's more than aware that the story ends as the story should: Jesse's character gets the girl and Jimmy – no, Ricardo – is driven to insanity and gets his mum to pull the trigger. It's a complex play but Jesse likes it (mostly because he likes to call himself complex.) In actual fact, his life couldn't be simpler: Boy grows up, boy makes mistakes, boy loves girl, boy loses girl. It's the story of his life but he'd rather he focused solely on the third quadrant, only the girl of his affections refuses to play along.

But for now, he decides he's not going abide by the rules: this is his life and he's going to be the one dictating it from now on. And the title of chapter one? The Guy Who Gets Back the Girl.

**-StB-**

"How's the play?" Rachel gathers Quinn's only talking to her because everyone else is already occupied with their own conversations, plus the monotony in her voice kind of gives it away. But Rachel relishes this moment: she can finally tell someone everything she's been keeping bottled up because Quinn is unlikely to one, listen and two, repeat it even if she does listen.

"It's going great, thank you." She grins so obtusely she starts to get jaw ache, so quickly adds, "Jesse's the leading man."

She speaks at a speed which astonishes Quinn into listening, mainly because she heard little more than a blur.

"Excuse me?"

"Jesse." She wants to say _my ex_ but that makes it sound so official, so she chooses her words delicately, aware Quinn's watching with a sceptical look. "From Vocal Adrenaline. Well, not anymore. He's from UCLA now, I guess."

"He's in the play?" Quinn's face is incredulous but her voice has the amazing capacity to emit feigned interest. But Rachel is oddly thankful: Puck and Artie are beginning to watch this unusual conversation unfold; unusual given that the two girls have hardly had the closest relationship in the past.

"It's no big deal," Rachel tries (and fails) to convince Quinn with a lofty smile and a waft of her hand. "I've moved on from tha-that toad-"

"I can tell." Quinn drags out her words, an eyebrow raised. Toad is hardly the harshest insult ever. "You don't get over your first love that easy, Berry. No-one does."

Rachel wants to reply and inform Quinn (and Tina, who can't help but overhear) that she's perfectly over him and that, for the record, he wasn't her first love anyway. It's a lie, but if she can convince these then maybe she can convince herself. And once that's sorted, maybe she can convince _him_. But Mr Schuester walks in and their conversation is cut short, but Quinn's eyes tell Rachel that this is far from over.

At the end of practice, Rachel makes for a quick exit but Quinn's already prepared and has Puck casually leaning against the doorway so she can't escape. Rachel's eyes are a little wide as she turns back to look at Quinn, who merely shrugs with a look of muted victory dancing across her eyes.

"Guess I tamed the untameable beast." She nods at Puck to leave and he does so, scowling a little and scuffing his feet. Rachel contemplates running, but then glances at her attire and decides she'll never make it out alive – the majority of the school still wishes to slushie her and her shoes have no grip as it is. She's going to have to stay, and Quinn knows it. "But did you tame yours?"

Rachel's not even sure what Quinn's talking about. "Tame my what?"

"Jesse." Quinn rolls her eyes and shares a side glance with Mercedes, who purses her lips and places her hands on her hips.

"Listen, most of us were surprised you managed to pull a senior and even though we thought he was a – " Mercedes pauses, trying to find the right word.

"Douche? Traitor? Jackass?" Santana's suggestions cause for uncomfortable listening, mainly because everyone knew them to be true.

"Spy," Mercedes settles on, with a sharp glance at Santana, "What he did to you is beyond forgivable. Surely you see that?"

"I-" Rachel begins but is cut off again by Mercedes.

"And now you're in some play with him? Rachel, what's up with that?" Mercedes can't understand it. Hell, she can't understand most of what Rachel says or does, but this is something different altogether.

"I didn't know he was going to be there," Rachel protests, her hands flaring at her side.

"But you're still doing the play, so what's the difference?" Tina's not trying to be mean; she's worried that this – whatever this is – is not going to end well. For Rachel or Jesse.

"So I should leave because Jesse's there? That's just ridiculous – that would just prove he's still running my life."

"So you admit he was running your life before?" Mercedes just wants to show her that boys, no matter how much they say otherwise, just aren't worth it.

"No! That's not what I meant, I just-" Rachel can barely get a word in edgeways as Quinn starts to talk again.

"Look, we know you didn't exactly give yourself to him fully-" Quinn's cut off by Tina, but it's not that which gets her attention - it's the way Rachel's eyes drop, just slightly, and the way her cheeks flush just a shade darker than usual.

"Yes she did, she told Finn."

"Yeah, but what she said and what she did are two totally different things." Santana feels this is her territory in which to intervene, and does so with an air of authority.

"Yeah, totally different." Brittany, on the other hand, just wants some input.

"It was pretty obvious you didn't get jammy with James, Berry." Santana can't help but smirk and Rachel can't help but feel a little jealous – even as smug and self-centred as Santana is, she's just as determined to succeed as Rachel, just in different areas of life.

"You have, haven't you?" Quinn's voice is a little quieter and a little less accusing than usual. Rachel dares to catch her eyes and quickly returns them to the floor.

"No, I don't know what you're talking about." It's so unconvincing and so fast a reply that it's clear it's not the truth.

"Oh my god, Berry's popped her cherry. Who would have thought?" Santana sounds genuinely impressed with the news and this serves only to make Rachel blush further.

"Look, I really don't feel comfortable talking about this with any of you, particularly given that each and every one of you has spent practically the entire year mocking me at one point or another."

"Some more than others," Mercedes mutters under her breath, because although she's guilty for not being Rachel's biggest fan, she knows far too well what it's like to be on the receiving end to put that on someone else.

"Rachel, this is serious. St James is a total jackass; you can't let him ruin your life." Tina's slightly hurt Rachel hasn't told her about this but in Rachel's defence, it only happened a couple of nights ago.

"Oh, because everyone at Mckinley's done such a great job of making it so peachy up until now?"

"Why are you defending him?" Quinn cannot understand this situation at all and she's been in some tough ones herself. But she's intrigued; this Jesse must be something special for Rachel to risk it all.

"Look, he's taken your virginity, Berry; don't let him take anything else." Santana has the final words and walks out, Brittany close behind. Rachel can't comprehend how one boy could have so many girls closing ranks against him, but in another way, she's touched. Never before have so many people been worried about her welfare but she still can't see what all the fuss is about. Sure, he's made mistakes but if she never forgave anyone, Rachel wouldn't even be talking to any of these girls right now.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: First off, thanks you all so, so much for the reviews and alerts and all that jazz. It really does mean a lot and I just hope this chapter has done enough justice to prove it. Secondly, apologies galore for the lack of updates with this, only I've really struggled to get back into this one, so I'm a little worried this chapter is more than a little bit weak. It's a little bit fragmented and a little bit on the short side but I hope it's okay. As always, read, review and enjoy :)_

**-StB-**

The first time she runs through the scene with Jimmy, she can't help but think of Jesse. This scene – this stupid four minute slot – is the only reason she went to his room that night (or so she tells herself) and now she's filled with so much more than she'd bargained for. She knows she's supposed to be Lola having a crazy fling with Ricardo but given that Jesse's her only experience on this matter, it's hard to get him out of her head.

And it's even harder when he sits just metres away, watching her every move and hoping to catch her eye line just once. Because this first time they run through the scene, Jesse has to grit his teeth and act like he's appreciative of their efforts. He knows she's avoiding his gaze and when the scene's complete and they break for five, he corners her quickly because they need to talk: he's not sure he can sit through two weeks of _that_.

"You're avoiding me," he informs her, taking her hand and leading her out the theatre to the car park behind.

"It's been less than 24 hours, Jesse and anyway, I've been at school. Speaking of which-"

"Don't change the subject." It's firm and authoritative and this is, she guesses, what Mercedes meant about Jesse running her life.

"Jesse, leave it."

"No, Rachel, I won't. You're not going to just use me like this."

"It's not nice, is it?" She says the words before she can stop herself and she knows she sounds like she's calculated this entire thing, but she hasn't. And she hopes to God he knows.

"Well, we're quits now." And with that, whatever he was planning to say to her is no longer important and he makes his way back inside. She doesn't follow; instead she takes a seat on a nearby wall and closes her eyes and tries to pretend that all this isn't happening. That she isn't in this goddamned play that's only going to be shown for two weeks, for fourteen nights, for eighteen stupid performances. That Jesse isn't back from UCLA for a three week break and that she hadn't gone to his room that night. Pretence has always been her favourite pastime and she usually can do it well. But this time, as she closes her eyes, she's swamped with images of Quinn and Mercedes, Jesse and Finn and Jimmy and everything she wants to forget.

She doesn't know what it is about Jesse that makes her act without thinking, like she's running on impulses but _all_ the time. She takes pride in preparing her speeches and her songs and her future, and Jesse lifts her like a dandelion and just gently blows her off-course. So when he comes back out to find her because they're starting rehearsals and they kind of need the leading lady to be in said rehearsals, she gracefully manages to fall off the wall she was sitting on because she is never prepared for Jesse St. James. (She probably never will be.)

He rushes to hoist her back to her feet and she protests that she's fine, ignoring the blood dripping down her arm which she scraped down the bricks. He takes a tissue – _It's clean, don't worry_ – and gently cleans her up. Her heart throws itself against her ribs as his fingers caress her arms and she's starting to remember just how magical his body makes hers feel.

He ties a stray bit of a material around the gash and smoothes it over gently, rearranging her hair so it looks a little less mussed up.

"I think you need to work on your balance." It's a friendly insult and she finds herself grinning inadvertently. He glances at the entrance back to the theatre and his smile widens. "We'd better get back in; Esmeralda's going to freak if we don't nail these rehearsals today."

"You're Jesse St. James, I though you nailed _every_ rehearsal." Rachel's eyes are something else, Jesse's decided, because they speak more words than her mouth does (and that's saying something, because her mouth speaks a _lot_.)

"I wasn't referring to me," he informs her, a smug smile and nudge in the ribs accompanying it. "You could use a little work," he adds, whispering into her ear and pretending the blow she lands to his side doesn't hurt a bit. Apparently Rachel Berry is stronger than you might think. Jesse just grins and tugs her inside, where Esmeralda is close to tears (which would be a disaster given the amount of make up she's wearing.)

"Right then, guys and dolls," Jesse rolls his eyes and Rachel tries (and fails) to mask her laughter with coughing: Esmeralda's musical connotations are worse than Puck's taste in hair design. "From the top!"

**-StB-**

"I don't get you, Berry." Quinn's always been forthright with her opinions and in a way, Rachel's kind of glad. At least she knows where she stands with Quinn, a formality she struggles with, with most other people anyway. "Jesse broke your heart."

"I broke his too." Rachel hates admitting it because it's the one thing she thought she'd never do. Always the heartbroken, never the heartbreaker.

"You didn't." Quinn – whether she knows the truth or not – always sounds so certain, so right. "Because that would have involved him having a heart in the first place."

"Quinn, I know you're not one for grandeur and romance, but Jesse _does_ have a heart."

"Yeah, a cold one." Quinn sighs, a tight smile on her face that Rachel can't quite decipher. It's not happiness or smugness; it's something else and Rachel simply cannot read it. "Look Berry, I'm not going to pretend that I want to understand why you're running back to that weasel, I just think you should be careful."

Rachel knows Quinn's probably only warning her because, try as she might, Quinn can't hide the fact that she enjoys glee club now and even more than that, she wants to win something too. (The trophy, some recognition, her reputation.) But somewhere deep down, Rachel would like to think Quinn's issuing these warnings because genuinely doesn't want Rachel to get hurt. But Rachel's wise enough to know that's probably not true.

"It's only two weeks," Rachel reminds Quinn (and herself), "And then I'll be back to bother you lot."

"I can't wait." The sarcasm that used to cut deep is now replaced with the slightest hint of humour and Quinn smirks, a gesture which Rachel mimics. Rachel excuses herself as it's time for her play rehearsal and Quinn watches her walk out the empty room. It's only in rooms like this (or the choir room occasionally) that Quinn will ever talk to Rachel, because anywhere else would involve being in public and being seen talking to the girl with the high notes, fast speech and unhealthy obsession with animal sweaters. And sure, Quinn's the girl who had a baby at sixteen with two dads but somehow, she's still higher than Rachel in the school's social hierarchy (and call her shallow, but she'd like to keep it that way.) She'll still look out for Rachel though and not only because Rachel's their biggest bet for winning (because although she'd deny it to her grave, Quinn's fed up of seeing Rachel get hurt. There's only so much heartache once girl can handle, even Rachel.)

**-StB-**

"Hey, sexy." It takes Rachel about three minutes to realise Jimmy is actually addressing her. Although she can't really call it addressing her – it's a derogatory drawl that falls from his lips with the aim of one thing and one thing alone.

"Jimmy, hi." She's arrived at rehearsal a little (well, 30 minutes) early and is patiently waiting in the car park for someone to arrive (preferably Jesse. Or Esmeralda. Or frankly anyone but Jimmy.)

"You cool?" Rachel never has understood the phrases that permeate the youth of today and she probably never will, unless maybe you sing it to her.

"I'm actually fairly warm, thank you. This jumper is more insulating than you'd think." Jimmy stares are her like she's not even speaking in coherent sentences. Rachel takes this pause to study Jimmy and she finds it hard to understand why on earth he'd be interested in any sort of theatre.

"Smoke?" He offers her a cigarette but quickly retracts upon the appalled look on her face. She quickly corrects herself, tugs (unnecessarily) down on her jumper and fakes a smile.

"I'm good, thanks. I don't smoke; it damages the vocal chords and –" She stops herself because Jimmy's giving her that look again, where he's not entirely sure he understands what she's saying. She watches him light up and edges away slowly (second hand smoke is just as dangerous and Rachel Berry takes no risks. Unless, perhaps, they're Jesse-shaped and vocally talented.)

Eventually Esmeralda turns up and Rachel heads straight to her dressing room because being in Jimmy's company is intoxicating (and that's not just from the smoke.) She sighs, straightens out her jumper (again) and heads back out for rehearsals. They have 4 more days to perfect it (and that's perfect it Rachel Berry style, not just learning all the words.) But that's apparently going to be more difficult than one would imagine.

Especially when your leading man does not turn up all evening.

**-StB-**

What worries Rachel most about Jesse not turning up to rehearsals is the fact that hardly any one makes a fuss. Which in turn means one of two things: they already knew he wasn't coming (and if that's the case, then why didn't _she_ know?) or they don't value his input enough to care. Either way, it doesn't sit well with Rachel.

"Hello Rachel, are you with us?" Mr Schue's trying valiantly to get her attention and succeeds only by performing a discordant set of chords on the piano. It makes her (and Kurt) jump but he finally gets her to focus. He begins speaking but Rachel finds herself zoning out and wondering why she still hasn't heard from Jesse. It's only when she's surrounded by the rest of the girls that she realises she's been pondering that thought for over twenty minutes.

"Well?" Santana looks at her expectantly to which Rachel replies with the blankest of looks.

"Well what?" Rachel's eyes dart from one face to the next, a more bemused look on her face with each movement.

"Mr Schue's pitted us against the guys and we _have_ to win." Santana doesn't do losing. "So tell us what song to sing, and me and Brit will make us all look as hot as hell."

"Did you know that the moon is actually hotter than hell?" Brittany's comments never cease to amaze anyone.

"Why do I have to choose the song? Mercedes can do just as good a job as me and besides, I might be busy."

"Well something's certainly on your mind because you didn't say a word _all_ practice," Mercedes points out and Tina nods in agreement. "And for the record, this is a musical theatre mash up. Not exactly my speciality."

"Jesse didn't come to rehearsal yesterday." It's clear Rachel's preoccupied because she hasn't even twigged that their assignment is pretty much her dream come true.

"So? You should be glad, that jackass is totally not worth it. Even _you_ could do better than him." It's an odd dynamic and Rachel doesn't know whether to take Santana's words as a compliment.

"Have you rang him?" Quinn – the voice of sensibility – thinks she can already guess the answer.

"No but –"

"Well then ring him. How else are you going to know?" She makes a valid claim but Rachel's reluctant to ring him in front of everyone else.

"Just do it, Berry. Like we'd want to listen into your warped conversations. Talk about vomit central." Santana's a talented liar, Rachel's discovered, because she's pretty sure they'll all listen in and then probably feed the entire conversation around the school. Over the tannoy. At lunch time.

"Maybe I'll just send him a text. It's not like we're dating, I don't need to speak with him or anything, just know why he wasn't there." She's trying to persuade herself as much as them, but it's failing.

"You said that before." Santana points out and Tina admits she has a point. "About not dating him when you actually were dating him."

"Well we are most definitely not in a relationship now." Rachel's trying to type out a message that is as neutral as possible, but Rachel's never done things by half.

"But do you want to be?" Quinn's question remains unanswered because Rachel's phone starts to ring; only it's her dads, not Jesse, who inform her they're waiting outside school to take her straight to rehearsal. She makes a fleeting farewell and escapes before she has to face another interrogation.

It seems Rachel's just as good at Jesse at evading people she doesn't want to speak to.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Firstly, this might be the only update for a couple of days – we have family down and so I'm thinking writing will be overshadowed by lots of Wii playing and dog walking and the such. But hopefully I'll come back refreshed and able to write tonnes more (here's hoping.)

There's a fair amount of text conversations in this – hope they're not too confusing but I didn't want to put their names at the end of every message because seriously, who does that? (Sorry if you do – I just don't know anyone who does.)

This a tad on the short side, but I hope it's okay and I look forward to you reading, reviewing and enjoying :)

Although her dads saving her from school was a godsend at the time, when she arrives at rehearsal 30 minutes early again, she instantly takes out her phone and proceeds to text Jesse (anything to excuse her from conversing with Jimmy again.)

_Going to actually bother to turn up to rehearsals today?_

She slips her phone back in her bag and tries to act as if she doesn't care if he replies or not (she does.)

_Did you miss me then, Rach? _

As soon as she hears the tone of her text message, her face already starts to feel that little bit hotter. She extracts her phone carefully and lets her fingers hover over the buttons before allowing herself to read it. She becomes a little offended at the 'Rach' and he can imagine her pouting away as she furiously types out a reply. Her fingers move at a speed ever her mouth can't usually manage and her reply is received in a matter of minutes.

_It's difficult to be the perfect leading lady without the leading man._

She's never going to admit she missed him (even if she did.)

_I'm sure you managed. _

No 'you'll manage' Rachel notes. It seems he has no plans continue his hiatus.

_Naturally. Though of course, I shouldn't have to._

She's right (she's Rachel Berry, of course she's right.) If Jesse should know about one thing, it should be dedication. It was the only language Shelby was fully fluent in back in her Vocal Adrenaline days.

_Of course not._

His sarcasm can be read as well in text as in speech – another wonder of Jesse St. James.

_For once in your life, fancy just telling the truth Jesse?_

She's becoming increasingly irritated (both at Jesse and herself) and he can tell from the speed of her replies.

_Channelling Stevie Wonder, Rach? I am surprised. Aren't you lovely._

His play on words doesn't go unnoticed by Rachel but she opts to ignore it and not give him the satisfaction. She goes to reply but he's already sent her another message.

_Why don't you just ask me what it is you really want to know._

Her throat goes a little dry but she obliges. Not for his sake though, she'll ask because _she_ wants to know.

_Are you coming to rehearsals tonight?_

If she thinks she can fob him off with that then she has another thing coming.

_Try again, Rachel._

She exhales sharply and grunts in frustration. Jesse has a very adept ability at getting under her skin but she can't really complain – she's never tried to stop him.

_Why weren't you at rehearsals yesterday?_

So much for not channelling the clingy ex-girlfriend status.

_That's better._

When she reads his short (and not so sweet) reply, she realises she's been another pawn in his on-going game.

_That is not a substantial answer, Jesse._

She's fed up of playing nice and the fact that Jimmy's starting to wander over to her is only serving to increase her temperament.

_Maybe I'm not a substantial person. _

She scoffs because Jesse's too arrogant to believe that and sure enough, she gets a second text mere seconds later.

_But we both know that's not true, don't we Rachel._

She tries to type out a non-committal reply but ends up deleting every one. She can hear his smugness in her ear each time she's about to press send, until she really does hear his voice and she looks up to see his face hovering in front of hers.

"You need to be fast to keep up with me," he whispers, leaning down to talk straight to her ear. She leans as far away as possible because his presence is overpowering but the wall behind her doesn't give her much room for leverage. "But then, you already knew that."

"I d-don't know what you're talking about." She feigns knowledge and finally manages to push him away and walks further out into the middle of the car park.

"Oh, I think you do, Rachel. Or maybe a re-run would be more appropriate to jog your memory. My house, tonight at 6." He strolls inside and she's left wondering if she's actually meant to take that as an invitation. She mentally curses herself (and Jesse – numerous times) before pocketing her phone and entering the theatre, keeping her distance from Jesse until their scenes call them to do otherwise. They complete them (flawlessly) and it's like nothing is wrong in the world, they're just two teenagers learning lines and reciting them perfectly.

But then when rehearsal draws to a close, he looks at her expectantly and drags a smile across his lips. She turns on hotly on her heels and stalks out the theatre, her skirt lashing at the backs of her legs with the speed of her movement. She pushes all thoughts of Jesse out her mind on the journey home, instead trying to remember what it was Mr Schue had set as an assignment. That is until her phone pings from the top of her pillow and she already knows who it is before she reads it.

_Where are you? I've been waiting._

So apparently he wasn't joking when he meant for her to come over. Or the joke's carrying on: Rachel is more than ready to admit that Jesse certainly keeps her on her toes.

_Jesse, be serious. I have school tomorrow._

He laughs as he reads her reply and it never surprises him how seriously futile she can be.

_And?_

Like that's going to stop him. He's had a taste of Rachel Berry and now he's hooked. It's like an addiction and each little bit her sees of her keeps him wanting more.

_My dads are home, I couldn't come out even if I wanted to._

She doesn't want to. Because she knows that if she does, before she knows it he'll be muttering _those_ things in her ears again and his fingers will be wandering around of their own accord. She doesn't know how he does it, but Jesse manages to wipe all her self restraint as soon as he enters a one metre radius. When he doesn't reply for a little while, she half expects him to turn up on her doorstep and a smile twitches at the corners of her mouth as she shakes the image from her head.

_Tell them you have a late night rehearsal. _

It's not the best excuse she's ever heard but she could easily enough pull it off. It's not so much a question of if she could though; she's more worried about whether she should.

_Why are you so intent on this?_

She doesn't quite know what she hopes to gain from this but she knows she's treading a dangerous line to try and play Jesse at his own game.

_Fine, I'll drop it._

He knows it's a just a matter of time before she relents; he knows he's wearing her down because she's doing exactly the same to him. She knows he's waiting for her reply, but decides he can wait a little longer. She takes a leisurely shower and then returns her attention to her phone as she dries her hair and applies just the faintest amount of make up.

_I don't even know where you live._

It's not a promise that she's even going to meet him; it's far from that because she knows better than to make (or break) promises. Jesse taught her that (in a round-about way.)

_Not a problem._ Nothing ever is for Jesse. _I'll pick you up. Meet me at the aquarium._

Jesse goes from one extreme to the other and Rachel's pretty sure with him it's either all or nothing. There's no middle ground, no in-between, it's Jesse or nothing. And she's had nothing, these last few months, and she's not sure she wants that anymore. But she's not sure she's ready to give her all to Jesse either. He's overly talented at everything and that includes breaking her heart.

_I have a glee club assignment. I should stay home and research, they deserve my full attention._

In other words, he doesn't deserve it. But he knows she's just having cold feet: he's close enough to persuading her so he's not about to give up now.

_I know you want to know why I wasn't at rehearsals. Come along and maybe you'll find out._

This time it's Jesse who's not promising anything but it's enough of a temptation to entice Rachel into relenting. She doesn't reply; instead she stands on her landing where she's sure her fathers will hear and quickly dials Quinn's number.

"Hello, Esmeralda is that you?"

"No, you idiot. It's Quinn." For reasons unbeknown to Rachel, Quinn is hissing down the phone. "What do you want, Berry? It's half past seven and I'm sort of in the middle of something." Quinn's purposefully disclosing the minimum amount of information but Rachel can just about hear a male voice in the background.

"Rehearsal tonight? I'm not sure I can-"

"Berry, what on earth are you doing? This is crazy, even for you." Quinn's exasperated but Rachel ignores it and carries on regardless.

"Well, he does need a little work, granted. Okay, I'll be there; I just have to square it with my dads."

"Rachel, if this is you using me a little decoy to meet that _jerk_, I swear I-"

"No worries, Esmeralda. I'll get someone to drop me off home afterwards. See you soon. Bye."

Rachel ends the call before Quinn has time to embark on another voodoo inspired verbal bashing of Jesse and dashes down the stairs to inform her dads she has rehearsals this evening.

"We know, honey, we heard. Maybe you should work on your indoor voice for future phone calls." Rachel nods and agrees – she'd agree to anything right now, she's so desperate to keep her composure and not let on to her dads that she's lying completely. "Do you need a lift?"

"No, I'm good thank you, Esmeralda's arranged a few car shares, I think she's a little guilty seeing as it's very impromptu."

"Okay honey, just be careful and try not to wake us if you come in late." Rachel tries not to exhale a breath of relief too openly so quickly grabs a bottle of water and runs up the stairs, two at a time, the knee high socks she's wearing gradually slipping further down her calves as she runs.

_Aquarium it is. And if you dare stand me up St. James, I will personally hire Noah to pucker your face._

Jesse laughs when he reads the text and almost wants to bow to her challenged just to see Puck try. But contrary to popular belief, Jesse does have a heart in his perfectly toned chest and he's not about to break Rachel's by standing her up on a street corner, where all manner of atrocities could happen to her. (But he really need not worry – he forgets she carries her rape whistle.)

Rachel ignores several more calls from Quinn as she makes her way to the aquarium, only t see Jesse's car already there and waiting. She climbs in and as he goes to move into gear, his fingers brush accidentally against hers and her eyes flutter shut before she yanks both her hands into the middle of her lap.

And if the car journey was anything to go by, it was about to be a long rehearsal.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Right so this is a little on the short side, but I just wanted to get back into the swing of things after my little break away. Thanks again for all the reviews and alerts and stuff, I'm very grateful and hope you read, review and enjoy this :) _

"This is actually my uncle's place but he's off visiting Paris, so you'll be pleased to know we can _rehearse_ in peace." Rachel's not quite sure why she imagined they wouldn't be alone, but to hear his voice confirm it sends tremors through her body. When she doesn't reply, Jesse turns to face her, closing the front door behind her. "Come on," he tugs her into a dimly lit kitchen where there's a small selection of food put out on the table. It's possibly the most thoughtful (and genuine) thing he's done for her (apart from answering _that_ question all those nights ago) and she feels a smile creep onto her face before she even knows it's there. "You know, if you looked any happier, I might actually mistake you for someone who likes me."

Rachel runs the rim of her glass across her bottom lip tentatively, as if the words she's about to say hold a certain danger. "I _do_ like you Jesse."

"But?" He knows there's a but; there's always a 'but' with him. A wry smile takes over the bottom half of Rachel's face as she lowers the glass to the table. This is the most honest conversation they've had in a while and Jesse determined to know where on earth he stands with this indomitable beauty. When she doesn't answer, he tilts his head and tries to figure out how the hell the tables turned. Suddenly Rachel's holding all the cards and if this is a game that she's playing, he definitely needs to re-learn the rules.

"If I've learnt anything this year, it's that I talk far too much and probably at a speed that's decipherable only by people with super sonic hearing and or Rachel Berry translators." Jesse smiles as she proves her point exactly. "So there's no but, Jesse. I'm probably far too honest for my own good and my already fragile heart is likely to be shattered again but now I've told you."

And just as Jesse thinks he's got this game, this limbo sorted, he goes in to place the softest kiss on her lips but Rachel pulls away before their lips even meet.

"I said I liked you Jesse, not that I wanted this –" Her protests fall on deaf ears because Jesse wants to kiss her and kiss her Jesse will do. His hand is clammy and uncomfortable on the back of her neck but she quickly ignores it as his thumb and forefinger apply just a precious amount of pressure at the base of her hairline and she forgets that she doesn't want this (just for a second. Or two.)

His other hand slips around her waist and their bodies join in the middle, fabric rubbing against fabric. She makes no effort to stop the kiss but nor does she make a move to open her lips: letting in his tongue would symbolise letting him back in her life for good and she's trying so hard to find some sort of inner restraint.

Neither one remembers when it became so hot, but as Jesse finally gives up and lets her lips fall from his and places his forehead against hers, breathing heavily onto her face, Rachel swears she's about to overheat. His breath wisps against her skin and makes a few strands of hair dance gently by the side of her face. He sounds pained and out of breath but it's not a feeling that Jesse dislikes. He feels alive and aroused and he's reluctant to move his hand from the back of Rachel's neck. Rachel's eyes are closed as her heart travels up to her throat and she can't seem to swallow it back down.

"You're going to kill me," he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut too. She doesn't really know what he means but if they're talking about death, she's pretty sure she'll get there first if the way he's making her feel is anything to go by. He releases her neck and her waist and instead searches for her hand, threading his fingers in-between hers. He pulls at her gently and leads her up the stairs into the darkness above.

His mouth is hot and needy and a little bit aggressive as it attacks her lips in a style than can only be described as insistent. He's more than aware that she's not going to come running back _into_his arms or be his long distance girlfriend who watches his every show, but if he's got these two weeks to spend with her, he's going to make sure they more than count. Without breaking the kiss he guides the two of them to the double bed in the spare room and Rachel quickly feels the soft cushioning of the mattress beneath her. She falls too readily into his touch as he envelopes her in his intoxicating embrace and this time, there are no barriers, no inner restraint. His tongue wages war with hers and it's a fight to the death. His body is a little heavy as his climbs onto of her but her head relaxes further into the pillow as she tries to crane her face away from his, because he's staring at her in a way that no one's ever done before and she can't quite put her finger on what he's thinking. The feeling of the two of them together is nicely familiar but it's something new simultaneously. She's been here before but this time, she knows what to expect and more importantly, she knows what she's doing.

So when her hands cautiously undo his belt buckle, he stops the deepening kiss and steadies her hands. "Rachel," he exhales heavily, trying to catch his breath before he asks her if she's sure, tells her they don't have to do this.

"Jesse," she replies, her voice firm and assertive. She knows what she wants and right now, even though she knows she shouldn't, she wants him. _All_ of him. She looks up at him and just for a second her ministrations stop completely and his eyes lock onto the deepness in hers. He waits one beat, two, and then releases his tightening grip on her hands, lowering his mouth to her neck to drop warm, wet kisses on every patch of skin available. She might not be forever, but tonight he's going to mark her as his (without any regard for how it'll look in her costumes for the play. But then again, he's Jesse St. James, and consequences are nothing but an afterthought.)

She's hot and overdressed and ridiculously delirious (or so she tells herself because here she is again, in a bed with Jesse St. James, doing _anything_ but sleeping.) And when morning comes she knows she'll regret it but right now, Rachel's very much of the philosophy to never regret anything.

**-StB-**

She finds it hard to sleep because her mind is racing and she knows she should be heading home by now because there's no way her dads would believe in an all night rehearsal. On a school night.

But Jesse's fallen asleep on her bare stomach, his body in between her legs and she feels uncomfortably exposed and bare, even if he's not awake to notice. His hot breath tickles her stomach every time he breathes out and though she tries to sleep, every time she closes her eyes she keeps reliving the past few hours and that's not helping her sleep either. She checks the time anxiously and soon decides there's nothing for it.

She slips herself away from underneath Jesse's body, trying incredibly hard not to wake him from his peaceful slumber. She wraps her shirt around her body and searches for the rest of her clothing: walking down the streets in her underwear would be an even worse idea than sleeping with Jesse (twice.) She contemplates ringing Quinn to come and pick her up but after the ear bashing from earlier (plus the fact that Rachel's more than certain Puck's there) she gives it a miss.

"Who ever this is, it's half past ten at night and there had better be a good reason for this." The person on the other end of the phone hisses down the line to Rachel, who laughs a little awkwardly as she shuts the front door of the house.

"Listen, I can assure you I wouldn't be calling if I wasn't totally desperate and I'll pay you back, I promise." Rachel speaks so fast it's almost just a blur.

"Rachel, go home." Kurt's not impressed she's interrupted his beauty sleep. His looks take work and she's going to regret jeopardising them.

"I _would_ if I could." She's nearly down to pleading and Kurt's almost willing to do anything just to get her to stop. She hears Kurt sigh and then his monotonic voice speaks the words she needs to hear.

"Fine, I'll come and get you."

Kurt comes some minutes later and Rachel readily climbs in the car without chancing a look back at the house. Kurt raises an (immaculately styled) eyebrow at her appearance: her shirt buttons aren't quite matched up and her hair's tousled in a way that could only have been achieved by someone else's hands.

"I don't usually approve of your fashion disasters as it is, but this is worse than usual. What on earth happened to you?" Rachel falls a little silent as they drive and Kurt's eyebrow manages to rise even higher. He can see her mind ticking over as she tries to manifest a feasible response and the fact that Rachel Berry's speechless tells Kurt she has something to hide.

"We had rehearsals. They got a little, well, frantic." She swallows heavily and keeps her eyes on the road in front of her, never willing her house to appear more.

"And who was at this rehearsal?"

"All the cast, you don't know them."

"Rachel, if you could lie as well as you could sing I'm sure MI5 would be knocking on your door. But you can't. Not even close." Kurt rolls his eyes because he's pretty sure he knows what's been going on. Rachel feigns laughter and quickly exclaims that this is her house and climbs out of the car at a speed that Kurt swears he's never seen a human move.

When she gets inside, she runs straight up the stairs and shuts the door if her bedroom. She lets her back rest against the wooden door as her chest heaves with excitement, confusion and breathlessness. Sleeping with Jesse once could have been passed off as an artistic discovery; an educational necessity. But twice? That makes it something else entirely. She climbs into her bed and is finally able to sleep, and when her father's come and check her half an hour later, switching off her lamp and kissing her gently on her head, it's clear they have no idea what their little girl has been up to.

**-StB-**

When Rachel walks into glee club the next day, she's positively glowing and Kurt looks at her with a clear air of disgust. No one should be that animated on a school day.

"Do you mind turning your wattage down, Berry? Some of us are sleep deprived." Kurt's massaging his temples as Rachel apologies quietly for last night, not wanting to give anything away. She tries to keep her distance from Quinn – someone else who could give her away – but Quinn's adamant that they're going to talk.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Berry. I know what you did last night."

"And I know what you did too, Quinn." Rachel's desperate to keep her and Jesse under wraps because honestly, she doesn't know what there is to say. She's not telling him her deepest, darkest secrets (but why would she, when he _is_ her deepest, darkest secret.) Quinn folds her arms and the smallest smirk climbs onto her lips.

"Do you want me to say 'I won't tell if you won't'?" Quinn watches as Rachel pauses to think and it's clear that that is pretty much all Rachel wants. Quinn sighs and adjusts the bracelets on her wrists. "Fine, I'll keep your goddamned secret. Just be careful, Rachel. Make sure it's Jesse you're in love with, not just love itself."

"I never said anything about being in love with him," Rachel quickly protests. She may have slept with him (twice) but she's sure she's not in love with him.

Quinn shrugs and saunters over to sit with Puck. "You didn't have to."

"Mr Schue? Can I be excused from rehearsal today? I'm feeling a little nauseous." Mr Schue eyes Rachel for a second before agreeing. Rachel wouldn't miss rehearsals for anything, so her accepts her word and lets her go. Quinn raises a sceptical eyebrow and Mercedes shakes her head.

"Mr Schue?"

"Yes, Brittany?"

"Is Rachel pregnant?" Santana elbows Brittany in the ribs as Mr Schue widens his eyes and glances at the door Rachel's just ran out of.

"It's probably just a stomach bug, Brittany. Now, your mash ups, anyone got anything to show me? Any progress at all?" Will makes a mental note to investigate Brittany's question later, and even though he thinks it's unlikely, the way the other girls acted suggest to him that they're certainly hiding something.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I can do nothing but apologise for how stupidly long it's taken to write this chapter and upload it. I completely lost my way this story but I hope it's starting to come back to me in one way or another. This basically ties together a few loose ends and hopefully you kind people haven't been put off by my extremely long delay in updating. Also, warning for one word's worth of bad language towards the end. (In the words of Cory Monteith: someone said the 's-h- word'. If you haven't seen that video, WATCH IT.) Anyway, I hope to goodness that this is okay and readable, I, again, apologise profusely for the lack of chapters and more importantly, I hope you enjoy :)_

**-StB-**

"Too much for you, was I?" Jesse's voice is low as he appears from nowhere and starts walking behind her. Rachel blushes but doesn't look round – she doesn't want him to see her looking so flushed. "I mean, why else would you leave so suddenly?"

"I have a lot going on this week and I'm sure you're as aware as I am of the necessity of a good night's sleep." She's quick to retort because she knew this conversation was coming.

"And how did you sleep?" He's making any excuse just to get her to talk to him, mainly because he likes how flustered he makes her, but also just because he likes her. Really likes her. And sometimes, he just wants them to talk until the sun sets because there is never enough time and life is too short.

"Fine, thank you Jesse. I slept perfectly well in fact."

"Thanks to my vigorous workout, no doubt." Jesse must be the most self-assured man to live, Rachel decides. He manages to creep up alongside her and waggles his eyebrows in what he hopes is a seductively suggestive manner. It's no lie Jesse practices many (show) faces in front of his mirror but seductive is not usually one of them. But it seems to do the trick because Rachel quickly stares at the path ahead (anywhere but at him.) "It's nothing to be embarrassed about Rach; we're two young, healthy, beautiful people. It's practically an inevitability."

"Jesse, I've got places to be, so if you'll excuse me," She tries to speed up but Jesse's one step ahead and manages to block her path.

"Like glee club rehearsals?" He smirks at her reaction to his knowledge but it only infuriates her further.

"Stalk me, much?"

"Blair Waldorf now, are we? Role play, eh Rach? Didn't think you had it in you." He's so smug and self righteous Rachel honestly doesn't know what she sees in him but there's something about him that keeps her running back.

"What do you want, Jesse?" She stop walking altogether and Jesse sidles directly in front of her, letting his hands snake round her waist and meet at the small of her back. She quickly rips his hands apart and takes a step away from him, looking over both shoulders to ensure no one's seen them. "Jesse, not here!" She whispers, brows meeting in the middle of her face in half-hearted frustration.

He ignores her protests but makes no further attempt to touch her. "I was merely going to offer you a lift to rehearsals tonight but if this is your attitude, I think I'll be withdrawing it."

"You can't withdraw an offer you haven't actually offered yet," she counteracts, pouting just slightly as she answers because technically, she's right. "But I wouldn't take it anyway," she adds loftily, beginning to walk home again, making her way around Jesse who merely raises an eyebrow before following her again.

"Of course you wouldn't."

"Then why would you offer?"

"Because I'm gentleman," he tells her simply but she scoffs and quickens her pace. But of course, Jesse matches it firmly and she's not about to shake him.

"Right, because all gentlemen deposit edible substance on young girls heads." It's a bit of a low blow because against her better judgement, Rachel's forgiven (but not quite forgotten) Jesse for that fateful day, but it's always there for ammunition should she need to employ it. It shakes him for a minute or two but he's quickly back into his stride until they reach her front door and makes it clear he's not invited in.

"I'll see you tonight then," he shouts through her letterbox, a sense of smug satisfaction reaping through his every pore because only he can rile Rachel enough to render her silent.

"Jesse, you never said – why weren't you at rehearsals the other night?" She has one last ditch attempt to regain some dignity and influence over this conversation but Jesse's never one to bow down. He doesn't even look back as she comes back outside to stand on her doorstep.

"I'll see you tonight," he shouts back, refusing to give anything else away. He watches her involuntarily stamp her foot in frustration as he walks away, a soft smirk delicately draping over the bottom half of his face.

**-StB-**

"Hey," Jesse hears a breathless voice approach him as he waits for Rachel in the car park. Rehearsals are over and the cast have finally used up all rehearsal time available. The local press are printing the photos of Rachel and Jimmy as Lola and Ricardo and come Monday, the performances start. "We're going out for a pre-performance dinner, one last night of alcohol-fuelled fun before two weeks of soberness. You two coming?" Cara, the other girl with her own dressing room, hovers on the spot waiting for Jesse and Rachel to catch her up.

"Sure," Jesse answers for the both of them, not even giving Rachel a moment to protest. "Where were you thinking?"

"Lazelli's, on the corner?" She glances back to the car, where Jimmy sits flashing his lights at her to hurry up. She rolls her eyes as she turns back to Rachel and Jesse and promptly grins. She's not the type to hurry for anyone.

"I know it. We'll meet you there, say 9?"

"Half past," Cara replies with a wink, "They only serve minors after nine."

Jesse grins – she's a woman after his own heart – and agrees to meet at half nine. Rachel's positively fuming behind him but Jesse does a grand job of ignoring it, at least until Cara's out of the way.

"And what would possess you to make arrangements for me?" Rachel demands, hands on hips and eyes wide and glaring. "For all you know, I might have immovable plans for this evening"

"You don't have plans," he smirks knowingly, heading towards his car. "Need a ride?"

When he doesn't hear an answer, he turns and sees Rachel stood in the middle of the car park, arms folded and bag on the floor.

"How do you know I don't have plans? Just because you chose furthering your selfish, egoistical career over me doesn't mean all other boys do too, Jesse. I might have a date."

"You do," Jesse walks towards her, picks up her bags and chucks them in his car, holding the passenger door open for when (not if) she decides to climb in. "With me and the rest of the cast."

"How do you know I don't have a date with Noah? O-or Mike?"

"Because I know you," he replies simply, checking his watch in an effort to try and make her get in the car. "You wouldn't be able to help but broadcast such an event to us all at regular intervals and since you haven't, I believe I'm right to assume you're free to spend the evening with me."

Finally she stalks towards the car, manoeuvring herself around his smug self to climb into the car. "Just to clarify, I'm not spending the evening with you, St. James. I'm spending it with the cast who, with the exception of you, are perfectly acceptable people."

He waits until he's buckled up and pulling out the car park to retort, a grin emerging before he's even uttered the words because he knows it's going to rile her to the heavens.

"That's not what you said the other night, Rachel." He quickly locks the doors forcing her to remain in his company and he emits the shortest of laughs at the pure face of poison she's painted over her features.

**-StB-**

She turns up, a little late, but Jesse stands up and pulls out her chair for her. She huffs, instructs him to sit down and stop making a scene (only she's allowed to do that but not somewhere like this.) The rest of the cast – minus Esmeralda – are here and Rachel promptly orders, easing herself into the conversations being batted around the table. That is until one becomes a little too close to home.

"So why did you two break up?" Cara asks, biting a breadstick in half.

"What two?" A blonde boy asks, and Cara flicks a few crumbs in his direction.

"Jesse and Rachel, idiot."

"Oh," the boy – Alfie – giggles (he's a little tipsy) and turns to Rachel and Jesse. "So why was it? Was he shit in bed?"

"It was artistic differences," Rachel quickly ushers her answer in before Jesse can even steal a glance in her direction, ignoring Alfie's lewd comments as she goes. Cara scoffs at Alfie with a smile and Rachel raises a quiet, understated eyebrow.

"Only you two would break up over something so regal and dramatic," Cara laughs and Rachel forces herself to smile along. "Then again, there's only room for one drama queen in a relationship and we've all seen Jesse's more than a rival for _that_ role."

Jesse forgets to laugh because he's so centred on the way Rachel's just saved his bacon (theoretically speaking of course, he hasn't forgotten her vegan lifestyle.)

"That and his shameful obsession with Chicago. It'd never last," Rachel adds, trying to take the focus off of Jesse, who seems to have been rendered incapable of speech.

"Think himself as a bit of a Billy Flynn, does he?"

"More of a Velma Kelly," Rachel bats back, a genuine grin blossoming below her nose. Cara ripples off into girlish laughter and Jesse finally manages to regain some sort of consciousness, emitting a strained chuckle before hastily sipping at his drink. "What about your Jimmy?" Rachel, of course, has noticed the way Jimmy drapes his arm around Cara's shoulders. "Think of himself as the school stud, or something?"

"First off, he's not _my_ Jimmy."

"Well he's certainly under the impression you're his Cara." Rachel's eyes flicker over to Jimmy who's watching the two girls converse with an air of unease.

"Well, more fool him," Cara smirks back and Rachel finds herself smiling because Jimmy doesn't quite know what he's let himself in for. He didn't get anywhere with Rachel, so he's moved down the ranks but it seems Cara's more than a match for him. The girls ripple off into girlish giggles opposite each other and Jesse, still preoccupied from Rachel's conversation earlier, smiles along oblivious, willing this meal to end so he can get Rachel on her own.

"Well, it's been great and I want to thank you all for coming. And if it wasn't for the fact we've all got two weeks of performances to get through, we could totally have killed _La Vie Boheme_ right now." Cara gets a chorus of cheers and the waiters glance at the table nervously. It's just not that kind of restaurant. She raises her (empty) glass and toasts them all as they begin to disperse one by one, until only Jesse and Rachel are left at the table, sat beside each other in silence.

"You didn't have to do that earlier, Rachel."

"Do what?" Rachel feigns innocence because she doesn't really want to have this conversation.

"I would have told them what I did – well, what I wish I hadn't done." He's stumbling a little over his words and he really can't blame the alcohol.

"And what would that have achieved, Jesse? Nothing," she presses her lips together in a sad sort of smile and lets her eye line drift up to his forlorn ones, taking in the colour of his eyes. "It's fine, honestly. I've moved on Jesse; let's just forget it ever happened."

But he can't forget; he can't forget any encounter he's ever had with her. He replays them in his mind over and over, willing himself to go back, to do it differently because contrary to popular belief, he actually really liked her. (He still does.)

"Do you want to forget everything?" He _needs_ to ask, because it's been twice now and he still doesn't know where he stands.

"Jesse – " She starts but he stops her just as quickly.

"I need to know Rachel, I just – " he breathes out because, yet again, words are failing him profusely.

"I don't know who I am when I'm with you, Jesse." And the way she admits it shows just how lost she's become. "I don't know what to remember or what to forget. I don't know how to be around you anymore." She sighs and she's praying so hard that she doesn't cry. "I'm turning into the girl I never wanted to be."

"You're just a girl in love with a guy, Rachel." And the way he speaks, so simple and plain, is a far cry away from his usual witty embellishments and it almost makes Rachel believe it to be true.

"How can you possibly know that, Jesse?" She's lost the will to find the answer because the question's been plaguing her for months.

"Because I'm just a guy in love with a girl."

She doesn't question him, she doesn't mock him or tell him he's wrong; she just sits there and looks at him, relishing the feeling of his warm hand resting gently on her knee. They stay seated for a little while longer, mostly in silence because neither one can think of anything to say to follow such a declaration of love.

But it's not painful or awkward – it's necessary and comforting and then when they leave a good half an hour later, he drives her home and walks her to her door and she hugs him gently before entering her house. Because she can't ignore that he told her he loves her and she can't ignore the fact that there are bits of her that love him too. But love, for what it's worth, messes with her head and right now, her only focus is on the next two weeks of performances (because when she's a star on Broadway and she's being interviewed about her early performances, she doesn't want to be haunted by shameful slip ups. It's just not they way to go.)

And on Monday night, when the cast are all in Jesse's dressing room (they would be, he hogs the limelight) and they're psyching each other on, she catches a glance from Jesse and his big, boyish grin brings a spark to her stomach.

"Let's do this!" Cara grins, punching her fist in the air as everyone mimics her actions.

"You ready?" Jesse asks, trying to ask a million questions all at once. Are you ready for the biggest buzz of your life? Are you ready to do _that_ scene with Jimmy? Are you ready to fall in love with performing more than you thought possible? Are you ready to make me proud?

"As I'll ever be," Rachel grins back, a bad bout of butterflies erupting deep within and making her elicit a childish chuckle. And she would be completely ready if the whole of New Directions weren't sat in the middle of the audience, ready to analyse everything she (and Jesse) does. She just doesn't know they're there yet and when the curtain rises and she and Jesse begin their first scene, their faces fall in perfect timing as a gaudy Finn waves from the seats.

It was about to be a long, memorable performance (for all the wrong reasons.)


End file.
